Friday, February 3, 2017

Fade



He looked worn, perhaps from fighting
weariness, illness or his demons

Benevolent light from grey overhead
did little to brighten the shadows

Only the ashen outline, bleeding
foggy memories, remains

Of what once was fueling
my heart's sunshine

Love's layers swept clean,
the scent of burn lingers

Last bastion of vintage
passion

Dimming

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